


A Couple of Dumbasses

by FagurFiskur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: Cas keeps kissing Dean and they keep not talking about it.





	A Couple of Dumbasses

Dean is midway through making what he’s sure will be a kick-ass omelet when Cas walks into the kitchen. Dean can recognize him without turning around by the slow, lumbering steps; Cas has not been a morning person since he became human.

“Mornin’,” Dean says, getting a grunt in response.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Cas reach the coffee machine and pour himself a cup. He doesn’t drink from it yet, just holds it between both hands and smells it. 

“I bought a new kind of beans,” Dean says. “They’re are supposed to taste smoother and more robust, whatever that means.”

Cas hums, taking a long sip. “It’s nice.”

It’s as verbose as Cas gets in the morning, so Dean’s gonna count that as a win.

“You want an omelet?” Dean asks. “I was making this one for myself, but I’ve still got all the ingredients out so I don’t mind...”

He trails off. Cas is walking towards him. There’s something in his expression that Dean can’t read, a fond upturn of his lips that’s unlike anything he’s seen on Cas’ face before.

Cas’ arm brushes against Dean’s and he’s still coming closer. He leans in and Dean closes his eyes on instinct, only realizing after he’s done it that he’s being ridiculous, except then Cas’ lips brush against his own and  _Cas is kissing him_. 

Dean’s brain short circuits. When it comes back online, Cas is pulling away, still that same soft, inscrutable smile on his face.

“I’m not hungry just yet,” he says. “I think I’ll take a shower.”

And he’s walking out of the kitchen. Leaving Dean by himself, still struggling to comprehend what just happened. Cas just  _kissed him._ They don’t  _do that._ Dean would know if they did, because he’s only been fantasizing about it for the better part of a decade.

The smell of smoke shakes him out of his stupor and he curses, turning his attention back to the omelet now burning on the pan. He plates it quickly, washing the pan before anything can stick to it. 

It’s still setting in. Cas kissed him. He kissed Cas. They have now kissed. Dean no longer needs to wonder what Cas’ lips will feel like against his. No longer needs to wonder if he’ll ever work up the courage to make the first step or if Cas will do it for him. 

But then, Cas left. He didn’t run away horrified or anything but he didn’t stick around either. Did he think it was a mistake as soon as he’d done it? Should Dean have stopped him? 

The omelet is burnt. Dean eats it anyway, and by the end of it he still doesn’t know how he should be feeling. He’ll need to talk to Cas about it. 

Or wait for Cas to bring it up first. Since he was the one who, y’know, kissed Dean.

*

Cas doesn’t bring it up. Once he’s done showering he comes back to the kitchen but all he does is ask Dean how many eggs there are left. Dean isn’t sure what that means so he answers like nothing happened. 

They keep talking as if it didn’t happen. For  _days_ neither one of them brings up the kiss or the potential for it happening again. Dean’s almost convinced it didn’t happen at all. Maybe him vividly hallucinating his best friend kissing him is more likely than Cas actually doing it.

Whatever it was, it’s clearly not happening again. 

Dean’s just reached that depressing conclusion the night Cas asks him to go out to the local bar. Okay, so it’s not  _the_ night; they go out plenty. They tend to feel cooped up if they don’t, much as Dean loves the bunker.

But it is  _the_ night Cas asks Dean to teach him pool. They’re about three beers in, Dean pleasantly tipsy and Cas tilting over into full-on drunk. He’d probably be better at the game if he were sober but as is, Dean is wiping the floor with him.

It’s fun, though. Dean lets himself forget whatever transpired between them for the night and just lets loose. Cas is first and foremost his best friend and Dean likes hanging out with him. 

They play. They drink some more. Dean flirts a little, subtle enough so that Cas probably doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t object. He might even be flirting back, though Dean has a hard time telling. Everything Cas does is sexy to him.

After a couple of games they give the table up to some college students and head out. Sam dropped them off, because Dean is the kind of responsible adult now that gets a designated driver for the nights he’s drinking. Dean did try to convince him to join them for real but Sam was busy (Skype date with Eileen) and if he’s being honest, Dean didn’t try all that hard. 

Since Sam didn’t join them, they’re gonna have to wait for him a few minutes out in the parking lot, which is just fine by Dean. It’s a nice night and Cas is leaning against Dean’s side, still giggling about some stupid joke they made ten minutes ago. Dean’s heart aches a little to think it’s all he’s ever gonna get but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna treasure it.

He’s just finished that thought when Cas palms his cheek and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss. It’s nothing like when he kissed Dean in their kitchen, short and sweet. Cas’ tongue is licking the seam of Dean’s mouth and Dean is pretty sure that’s a  _boner_ pressing against his hip. 

Before Dean can think too hard on that, or before he can even respond to the kiss, Cas is pulling away.

“What-” Dean licks his lips, chasing the taste of beer off his lips. “What...”

He’s interrupted by the sound of the Impala’s engine. A few moments later, she’s pulling up in front of them.

Dean has never felt less happy to see her.

*

So Cas was drunk. He was drunk and horny, and Dean was right there. There’s no other explanation for what happened, because he still  _won’t talk about it_. 

That doesn’t explain the kiss in the kitchen but Dean is sure he could find an explanation for that one if he tried. Maybe Cas was sleepwalking or something. Dean doesn’t wanna think too much about it because thinking about the kisses means thinking about Cas pretending they never happened. 

It’s not as if Cas is avoiding him or anything. He’s acting just the way he was before. Dean’s not sure if that’s better or worse than if Cas were to flat-out say it was all a mistake.

Dean would have confronted him by now, if he weren’t such a coward. 

*

Dean has prevented a fair few apocalypses in his day. A simple salt and burn should be a cakewalk for him but maybe it’s that overconfidence that got him where he is now, pinned by the throat against the wall of a mausoleum, slowly losing consciousness. 

His last thought before he blacks out is what an embarrassing way to go this is.

Fortunately, he wakes up just a few minutes later. He’s lying in the wet grass outside of the mausoleum, a pillar of smoke rising from its doors, and Cas has him propped up in his lap, hands gently cradling his face.

“Dean,” he breathes in relief as Dean blinks is eyes open.

“Hey.” He smiles lazily. “You got him?” 

“I did.” Cas’ thumb strokes Dean’s cheek. It feels kind of nice. “Dean, you almost...”

He doesn’t finish speaking, instead leaning down and pressing his forehead against Dean’s. He’s so close, Dean can feel his breath hitting his face, and all he wants is to close that tiny gap between them still. With much difficulty he raises one hand, lays it on the back of Cas’ neck and tugs at him.

Cas goes willingly, drawing in a shuddered gasp as their lips meet. Dean doesn’t have the energy to do much more than softly press his lips against Cas’, and even though the kiss is short his lungs still burn when they part.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. It’s kind of romantic, except for the part where there’s a pile of bones on fire just a few feet away from them.

Dean breaks the silence between them. “Are we gonna keep pretending this isn’t happening?”

“I wasn’t-” Cas swallows. “You didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t either,” Dean shoots back. “And  _you_ were the one who kissed  _me_.”

“So the ball was, as they say, in your court.”

Dean groans in frustration. “Let me up, I’m not having this conversation laying down.”

His head swims as he straightens but Cas’ hand is at his back, keeping him steady. Sitting up has the unfortunate side-effect of bringing them even closer, making it difficult for Dean to think clearly. He could practically count Cas’ eyelashes from this distance.

“You kissed me,” Dean repeats. 

“I didn’t mean to.” It might hurt to hear Cas say that, except his hand is still on Dean’s back, warm and comforting. “I just... wanted to. I had a moment of weakness and my desire overran my mental faculties.”

“Two,” Dean says, because it’s very important to him that Cas remember that. Once is an accident. Twice is a pattern. “You had two moments. You kissed me twice.”

Cas nods miserably. “And you didn’t kiss me back.”

Dean opens his mouth to deny it. Closes it again, because he really can’t. “I was in shock. I wanted to.”

“I see that now.” Cas’ free hand grasps one of Dean’s. It’s such a ridiculously gentle and romantic gesture, it knocks Dean completely off kilter. “But I didn’t know it then. All I knew was that you didn’t respond, and you didn’t talk about it after.”

“I was waiting for you to say something.” Dean laughs breathlessly. “Christ, we are really a couple of dumbasses.”

“We might be.” Cas’ lips twitch, his eyes alight with amusement. “I want to kiss you again.”

Dean’s heart jumps. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Cas is smiling when he leans in. He tastes like smoke and sweat, and Dean is so overwhelmed he almost forgets to kiss him back. Once he does, he’s a little too enthusiastic, and accidentally catches Cas’ lower lip between his teeth. 

It’s not a perfect kiss but it’s the closest Dean has ever had. 


End file.
